


Don't Let It Be Forgot

by thesolemneyed



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble, Gen, Knights - Freeform, Last Minute Realisation ?, Mingyu is aged up, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, Squire/Knight, War, vote now on your phones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29050629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesolemneyed/pseuds/thesolemneyed
Summary: Perfection came very naturally to Mingyu, and through very great effort to Vernon. Riding, archery, dancing, conversation - these were all skills they were expected to manage and master in their youth.But, where Mingyu floated above his classmates, his elders even, Vernon stumbled and skidded. He slipped in his saddle, he struggled with his bowstring, he tangled himself in rhythms, he fumbled over his words.***The prompt was about the intimacy of dressing and undressing so of course (!!!) knight/squire had to be done
Relationships: Chwe Hansol | Vernon/Kim Mingyu
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21
Collections: Seventeen Holidays





	Don't Let It Be Forgot

**Author's Note:**

> 17Hols fill !!! 
> 
> I just .... needed to Knight!Mingyu....I just had to

Vernon was sent away from his family at the age of seven, small and bewildered and blinking at the wide new world like it pained his eyes to take in.

He knew becoming a page was an important step in his life. It would form him into the man he was meant to become. His father had told him this; his hands and his words heavy on Vernon’s shoulders.

The family he’d been sent to had been kind enough, and they had worked hard to provide him with the education he deserved. They steered him with firm hands and gentle words, accepting him almost as if he were one of their own.

Mingyu picked him to become his squire when he was just thirteen, half a year before he ought to have. Of course, Mingyu had become a knight early as well; just eighteen and already wearing the King’s colours.

He was the gem of the realm, and Vernon held him very closely in his guarded heart.

Vernon had always watched Mingyu from afar, creating scaffolding with which to build himself. He moulded himself into a shadow, a near perfect replica.

Perfection came very naturally to Mingyu, and through very great effort to Vernon. Riding, archery, dancing, conversation - these were all skills they were expected to manage and master in their youth.

But, where Mingyu floated above his classmates, his elders even, Vernon stumbled and skidded. He slipped in his saddle, he struggled with his bowstring, he tangled himself in rhythms, he fumbled over his words.

And Mingyu, ever patient, ever nurturing, picked him up where he made his mistake and guided his fingers or his thoughts to where they needed to be. He showed him how to do better, how to _be_ better.

Vernon had dressed Mingyu for his first tournament in front of the king.

It wasn’t the first time he’d dressed him; donning and wearing the armour took practice. But it was the first time he was preparing him to be seen in it.

His fingers had trembled as he’d tied the leather straps together carefully. The face reflected back at him by the shining metal was warped and nervous. He’d had to retie them enough times to become frustrated, to let out a sigh of anger that was not befitting of him.

But Mingyu had just let out a sigh of his own, a long breath from deep within, and had looked down. He’d said something light, offhand in only the way he could be, and Vernon had smiled up at him, the leather straps more sure under his fingers now.

Mingyu had shone during the tournament. The youngest by a length, all eyes had been on him since the beginning and he ensured they weren’t disappointed by what they saw.

When Vernon helped him shed the heavy armour afterwards, he was still glowing at the shining words the King had bestowed on him. He was now the one vibrating, his movements making the straps slip under Vernon’s fingers again, but this time with a grin on his face and pride in his chest.

Vernon helped Mingyu dress for his wedding day. At twenty-three, he has pushed his parents on all previous mentions of marriage. But, with the realm in the state it was, he had little choice in the affair any more.

Words escaped Vernon that day. Usually they would fall onto familiar, well trodden paths of conversation, batting remarks between them as if it were a game.

But that day, the silence hung heavy in the air like cobwebs, sticking to him as he fussed around Mingyu. He hummed a quiet song, a small child’s lullaby he vaguely remembered his mother singing to him in his cradle. Some of the weight left Mingyu’s eyes at this and the tension at the corner of his mouth sagged into something heavier.

He was beautiful by the time Vernon was finished. Beautiful, but out of reach, like a glowing sunset.

On the first day of the war, Vernon was there to dress Mingyu. At twenty, Vernon only had months left of this service ahead of him, probably less if what he heard murmured in the dark corridors was correct.

His fingers no longer shook; they had become sure in their knowledge of Mingyu’s shape. Instead, his heart trembled and ached within him as they both tried to blot out the din from outside the tent.

“There are meant to be thousands of them,” Mingyu whispered. He was facing away from Vernon; maybe why he allowed the ghost of fear to bleed into his voice. “At least ten times what we have.”

_There have been worse odds._

_We can always hope for a miracle._

_Promise you’ll come back to me._

Vernon wanted to say one of these things to him. There were a multitude, a host of things Vernon wanted to say. They clogged his throat and echoed in his chest, clawing at his insides like wild beasts.

But he couldn’t stop him from going. And he couldn’t ensure his return.

But he could make the ties of his leather straps sure and secure. He could do his best to provide the finest protection Mingyu would be able to take out there with him. There would still be gaps, of course there would, and he could do nothing about them. His words wouldn’t seal them up, his love wouldn’t act as a shield.

His voice didn’t tremble as he looked Mingyu in the eyes and wished him luck, reminded him to cover his right flank like he always forgot. His eyes didn’t falter as they looked into Mingyu’s, steady and sure, and told him everything the rest of him could not.

They heard the trumpet blast in the distance and their hands grasped together for just a moment, a flash.

Mingyu nodded, resolute, his eyes finally dancing away. The horse outside whinnied, impatient in its anticipation.

They turned, and walked, together, out into the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed !!! 
> 
> Shout at me on twitter if you did (@thesolemneyed)


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